No Place to Run (KGI #2)(74)

The corner of his mouth lifted into an almost smile. “So you did. You impressed me. I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.”

Then his eyes changed, growing cold as anger flared in the depths.

“You put me in the hospital for months. I lay there seeing you pointing that gun at me, an arrogant little bitch who thought she’d won. You can’t kill me, Sophie. I can’t die.”

She lifted the grenade again when Alex moved in her direction. Her hand shook, but at the moment she didn’t care if she concealed her fear from her father. She was done with it. She was done with him.

“Stay away from me and my baby.”

“Give me the key and I’ll consider letting you live long enough to give birth to your brat.”

A burst of hysterical laughter escaped her. He didn’t realize yet that she didn’t have the key.

Tomas moved, and in that small lapse of attention as she glanced in his direction, Alex rushed her. He grabbed her wrist and twisted painfully until the grenade dropped from her hand to the floor.

The leather tie drifted downward, and both Tomas and Alex made a grab for the grenade. Alex reached it first, snatched it up and hurled it through the doorway and down the hall.

Sophie hit the floor, her arms covering her belly protectively.

The blast rocked the house, and plaster and wood rained down on her head. Recovering fast, she got to her hands and knees and crawled across the debris-covered floor.

A hand circled her ankle and yanked her back. She rolled defensively and came face-to-face with the furious eyes of her father.

Dust and bits of the ceiling plaster covered his hair, and he held up the leather tie with his free hand.

“You f**king bitch, where is the key?”

Self-preservation kicked in, and she struck at him with her other foot. Struggling wildly against his hold, she fought to gain purchase with her hands, pushing against the floor in an attempt to gain leverage.

Hope bloomed when she saw him drag his left leg in an effort to keep up with her. His pants leg was ripped from the knee down, and blood dripped onto the floor.

With another desperate kick, she managed to free her ankle, and she turned, scrambling over the floor toward the doorway on the other side. He was on her in two seconds, his body landing clumsily against hers. The sound of his breathing filled her ears as his hand curled into her hair. He yanked viciously, and when her head came up, he slapped her across the face.

Stunned, she hit the floor again, only to have him haul her up and drag her toward the opposing hallway. Tomas was down, pinned under part of the doorway that had fallen in the explosion.

Sophie fought back wildly. She wouldn’t die. Not now. And she damn sure wasn’t going to die at her father’s hands. She aimed a kick at his injured leg.

Cursing, he struck her again, this time with his fist. The cold metal of a gun brushed across her cheek before he lowered it and dug it painfully into her belly.

“Be still and cooperate or I’ll shoot you and leave you to bleed out like a gutted pig,” he hissed.

“Give it up,” she gasped out. “You can’t win. Sam and his men have you surrounded. You can’t possibly think you’ll make it out alive.”

“Watch me.”

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded as he dragged her through the house. The sounds of gunfire surrounded them, distant, but growing closer. What if Sam got killed? Or his brothers? What if they couldn’t get Marlene to safety?

God, there were so many what-ifs. Sam thought she’d betrayed him. Would he really put her above the safety of the people he cared most about? She wasn’t as sure as her father that he’d come for her, even if it was his child he was most interested in saving. In the face of her seeming betrayal, it didn’t seem a stretch that he wouldn’t even believe the baby was his.

Her father shoved her into the library and toward a wooden panel in the center of the room. The doors slid open, revealing an elevator. He forced her inside, then withdrew a key from his pocket and inserted it into the slot below the button for the floor.

The doors swooshed shut, immersing the interior in darkness. The floor lurched below her and they began their descent.

All the while, he held her arm in his bruising grip. Her face ached and her mouth had swelled and was split in the corner. The metallic taste of blood hovered on her tongue, but she was alive. She wouldn’t give up hope yet.

Please, Sam. Find me. Save our child. Save me.

I love you.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened to more darkness. Had they descended to hell?

Her father thrust her forward, and she clumsily stumbled along the hard floor. He’d slowed now, and he limped heavily, his body bobbing into hers.

She faked a stumble, then let out a cry of anguish. He fell into her, recovered and let out a hiss of pain. But she’d slowed him down.

Her brain short-circuited. She could only slow him down so much in hopes that Sam came for her. She babbled out the first thing that came to mind in a desperate bid to distract him, make him talk, all the clichéd things someone did when she was fighting for her life. What else was there left for her?

“How did you survive? I shot you. You should have died.”

Probably not the best thing to do. Remind him of the fact she’d shot him down like he’d shot her mother.

He remained silent, refusing to be drawn into conversation. His only response was to kick at her ankle to spur her movement. She went forward, pretending to fall. Her hand groped for the wall so she didn’t go down hard.